Her hands fist in his shirt again, her knuckles gone white. Her breath shudders against his lips, her silken wetness sliding down the hard length of him. Her whole body undulates against him, vibrating.
She wants to scream and rage at him, You, I love you. But she doesn't dare give that sentiment any air at all. She doesn't want him to think her weak and pathetic. (Oh but the sound of his voice makes her weak, and she doesn't care.)
The tension of her weight shifts and she hears the fabric of his shirt tearing under her hands. The linen rips across the back and she keeps pulling until it falls off his shoulders, frantic hands pushing the tatters away, sharp nails fixing in his skin.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-02-16 07:08 pm (UTC)She wants to scream and rage at him, You, I love you. But she doesn't dare give that sentiment any air at all. She doesn't want him to think her weak and pathetic. (Oh but the sound of his voice makes her weak, and she doesn't care.)
The tension of her weight shifts and she hears the fabric of his shirt tearing under her hands. The linen rips across the back and she keeps pulling until it falls off his shoulders, frantic hands pushing the tatters away, sharp nails fixing in his skin.